


Red Means GO

by WhyAreAllUsernamesTaken



Series: We either make it, or break it. [2]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 10:22:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20307910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyAreAllUsernamesTaken/pseuds/WhyAreAllUsernamesTaken
Summary: Red means go.Actually, it doesn't.But for someone like Jisung, who doesn't see the point in staying around any longer, it does.So when it turns red, he'll go.No matter how hard Minho tried to keep him from going.





	Red Means GO

Red means go.

That’s what Jisung had been telling himself for months now. Three painfully long months of waiting and waiting, looking for a moment to call it quits without too many people caring about it.

Three painfully lonely months as he had tried to be strong, retreating from the world in order to prevent anyone from hurting.

And as he wandered around the city, silent tears dripping down his face, he couldn’t help but think of Minho.

It had been last year around this time that he had been stuck in detention with the older for some stupid reason that Jisung didn’t even bother to try to remember.

Now, Jisung had been well aware that Minho ran with the popular smart kids while Jisung’s friends were made up of a bunch of misfits. And that set them apart, even more so than the two-year age difference. 

However, being stuck in detention without anything to do and their phones confiscated did wonders for striking up conversations that eventually lead to friendship. Not right off the bat, but after stumbling across each other a handful of times in the same detention room, it was bound to happen.

It was as if they’d known each other for years and Jisung didn’t complain as Minho rooted himself into Jisung’s life and vice versa. They spent almost every waking moment together and Jisung would just laugh and laugh at the older’s jokes and odd antics and in his turn, Minho would smile and laugh with him.

They complimented each other so much that everyone felt the need to point that out. And Jisung had to agree. Minho was a calming presence to Jisung’s dynamic life, keeping him from wandering off into the depths of his mind and in turn, people told them that Jisung possessed a certain stubbornness and need to stick up for what he thought was right, something Minho lacked.

Then one afternoon as they lay on Jisung’s bed, binge-watching Air Crash Investigation, Jisung came to realise that Minho wasn’t just a friend to him anymore. And because Minho, at one point, had rolled on his side and peppered his face with little kisses, Jisung decided to tell the older.

One thing had led to the other and it was the next day that they had walked to school together, only this time their fingers intertwined and stupid smiles on their faces. Nothing really changed, just mostly the label of their relationship and the more intimate touches but that was about it. It was comfortable and Jisung felt like he was floating. 

Jisung still remembered their first time vividly like it was just yesterday. He had been so insecure, so scared to do something wrong that he had cried when Minho asked if he could go further. Jisung could still see the look of panic and worry on Minho’s face, the way the hand on his hip tensed, and he was sure it would never disappear. However, Minho had been sweet and kind and gentle, telling Jisung that it was okay to be a bit scared but that there was no need to feel like he somehow wasn’t _good enough_. And when Jisung had felt comfortable and genuinely okay, their bodies had slotted together like puzzle-pieces, Minho whispering over and over again how much Jisung meant to him and how lucky he was to have Jisung in his life.

And when Jisung woke up the next morning, securely wrapped in Minho’s embrace, he knew he loved the boy.

It had been Minho who kept telling him that he shouldn’t be afraid to be who he was, to let himself free of his own restraints and that he was so beautiful to Minho, even if he could not see it himself.

And he trusted the older. It was slow and difficult and frustrating but he listened to Minho. He tried his best to be himself and to not listen to what other people wanted him to be. It took months but after that, Jisung felt way happier. He was happy and Minho was next to him to share that happiness and to make sure it wasn’t going to slip away from his fingers.

But no matter how happy he was, the voice always stayed, questioning his own self-worth and why Minho even wanted to be with him when he could be with someone way better. On some days it was louder than on others but he could ignore them because Minho would pull him close and whisper sweet nothings in his ear as they sat together on Minho’s couch. And if a few tears slipped away from Jisung, Minho would be there to kiss them away and tell him that it was okay to _feel_.

It had been at Minho’s party, celebrating his nineteenth birthday, that Jisung had found out that he should have listened to that little voice in the back of his head that told him that everything was too good to be true.

The night had started off wonderful and sweet but it had turned grey too quickly.

Minho had his arm wrapped around Jisung’s waist as they talked to some of Minho’s friends, when a certain topic came up, one that Jisung soon came to associate with being one of the causes of his downfall.

One of Minho’s dead-drunk friends - Changbin, if Jisung remembered correctly – had congratulated Minho on winning _the bet_ and when he saw the panic in Minho’s eyes when the older looked at him, an uncomfortable feeling settled in his stomach.

Minho had tried to shut Changbin up but Jisung had intercepted, asking what kind of bet it was that Minho had won. Before the older could do anything to stop it, Jisung learned that they had bet on whether Minho would be able to sweet-talk the _‘depressed emo kid’_ into sleeping with him, aka, Han Jisung.

And that was the exact moment that he could feel everything shattering. 

He couldn’t remember what Minho had said to him as Jisung had removed himself from Minho’s hold. He only remembered Changbin getting decked in the face and the panic in Minho’s eyes as Jisung backed away from him, tears clouding his vision and his lungs on fire as he tried to breathe.

He had ended up running, his vision going in and out of focus and his chest aching painfully. His phone had kept vibrating in his pocket long after Jisung had hid away under his blankets. After an hour of listening to his phone going off, Jisung couldn’t take it anymore and he had used all his sorrow and frustration to fling it at the wall and after repeating it over and over again, the buzzing stopped, leaving Jisung with parts of the device scattered around his room.

Jisung couldn’t remember the last time he had gone to sleep alone, but that was the first time in months, ugly sobs echoing off the walls and forming a painful lullaby. 

The next morning Jisung had found himself oddly numb and it was nostalgic and it didn’t feel good. It was when he had arrived at school and walked to his locker that it had turned from bad to worse.

He had already expected Minho to be there but it hurt way more than he had thought, even in his numbed-out state.

Minho had been a mess, going from apologizing for never telling him to screaming at Jisung to stop being so childish and just accept that it was a stupid bet and that he really did love him, no games. It was a side Jisung had never seen and that scared him. Minho had then apologized more when Jisung had shrunk in himself, ‘I love you’ coming out of his mouth repeatedly before Minho kissed him with so much force that Jisung got knocked back into the lockers.

But Jisung was already far gone, that voice in his head now taunting him that it had been right all along, that he had made a fool of himself by ever believing Minho.

So Jisung hadn’t responded, making Minho back away on his own.

Jisung cut off everything with the older and made it clear he did not want to talk to him anymore. Of course the older didn’t listen but Jisung could bear it. 

It stopped hurting after two weeks. Instead, he felt cold, indifferent whenever Minho would try to talk to him.

And even though he stopped feeling, he was back to crying himself back to sleep every night.

It was after a little short of a month that Jisung realised that he was back to where he was before he had met Minho. If he wanted, he could blame Minho for it but that wouldn’t have been fair. No, it was Minho who had managed to keep him here for a bit longer, whether Jisung had actually wanted it or not. 

In the end, it had gotten him nowhere. The darkness had just been put on hold for a couple of months before it continued and because Jisung had been lucky to have had a taste of a life without it, he could not handle its painful return. His walls had been brought down too much and he hadn’t had enough time to build them back up as strong as they used to be. No, that would take years and years of dark tunnels and cruel words and terrifying monsters and Jisung had not been prepared and never would be.

That’s when Jisung started telling himself that red meant go.

And with that he knew that he didn’t want other people to hurt. He didn’t want his friends to hurt because of him leaving, so he did what he thought was best and pushed them away.

It had been difficult and heart-breaking but he had somehow managed to get them to hate him.

Jisung had cried and cried when he had come home after using low blow after low blow to his friends. He had said the most horrible things that made him spiral down into self-hatred even more, even though the voice told him that he did well.

He had called Felix ugly, commenting on his freckles knowing full well that he boy was insecure about them. He had called Hyunjin a slut and when he saw the tears in his eyes, he had followed up by telling him that he was nothing more than a pretty face. At this point, Chan was only pleading for Jisung to stop and tell them what was going on and why he was saying those things.

It wasn't enough. It wasn't working so Jisung pulled out his ultimate trump card. He went for everyone’s weak spot, including his own.

He had told Jeongin that he understood why his parents had left him in front of a stranger’s doorstep when he was a baby, topping it off with commenting on his annoying personality and that it made him nauseous to look at him. 

A deafening silence had followed before Chan had practically roared, yelling at him to get lost and never come back.

And it hurt but Jisung knew he did well.

He looked up at the sky and was met by clouds and no moon in sight. It was freezing but Jisung was already numb anyways.

He slowly let his feet bring him to his destination and in a rather weak moment, Jisung wanted to turn back around and explain everything to his _ex_-friends.

But then the voice told him they’d never want him back and to keep walking, to follow through for once.

Before he had snuck out of his room, he had given in for a bit and had actually written a letter. It wasn’t addressed to anyone in particular but he had written his heart out anyway. 

He had passed Minho’s house a couple of minutes ago and had been very tempted to just drop the twenty-paged essay on his doorstep but he didn’t. Instead, the stack of paper was rolled up messily and barely fit into Jisung’s pocket.

Whatever he had written would be going down with him.

Jisung shivered as the cold pricked his bare skin. He hadn’t bothered to put on a jacket, so he walked around in a t-shirt while it was almost freezing at this time of night.

He came to a stop at _the_ intersection and took a shaky breath.

It was busy, even at this time of night and Jisung couldn’t help but smile. This was it. After years and years and years of guaranteed downs and hard-worked-for ups he was out of energy.

He looked around and saw that he was the only pedestrian.

Good.

Jisung may not feel anymore but that didn’t mean he didn’t care about those of others and he hoped not too many were going to be around to witness it.

He came to a stop at the pedestrian crossing and just watched the light switching from green to red and back for a couple of minutes.

Just as he had started to count down, a voice behind him interrupted him at twenty-eight.

‘’Jisung? What are you doing?,’’

He turned around, knowing that Minho wasn’t going to back away by simply getting ignored.

The older looked at him confused, a frown on his face and Jisung could feel his eyes wander all over him.

‘’You’ve been standing there for thirty-two minutes…,’’ Minho followed up, taking a step closer.

It left Jisung a bit baffled, ‘’What?,’’

Minho let out a shaky sigh and took another step closer but Jisung took one back on instinct. He was not going to let Minho or anyone undermine his plan, he wasn’t going to allow it.

‘’Sungie, why don’t we talk somewhere else? You’re standing too close to the road and you’re not wearing your jacket,’’ 

Jisung did his best to shoot Minho and angry glare, hoping it was cold and threatening enough to get the older to back off and it seemed to work. Minho almost winced as they made eye-contact.

‘’Minho, just go,’’

He took another step back, glancing over his shoulder to see the traffic-lights. Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw Minho move again eye and he whipped his head back to the older, making him stop dead in his tracks by taking another step backwards.

Jisung was now standing on the road, still too close to the pavement for his liking. There was no way that things would work out from this position.

‘’Sungie... What are you doing?,’’ Minho screeched, his eyes wide and set in fear.

‘’Don’t call me that, Lee,’’ Jisung replied, his voice void of emotion and he took yet another step back. 

There lay a heavy silence and Jisung saw Minho’s eyes being all over the place, from his to the road and to his feet before meeting his eyes again.

‘’I love you, Jisung,’’ Minho shot at him, desperation painting his face.

Jisung grimaced and decided he was done talking to Minho.

‘’Good for you. I don’t,’’ He deadpanned.

And he turned around, hearing the hurried steps of Minho behind him and Jisung prayed for that fucking car to speed up.

He glanced back and saw Minho dangerously close, his hand already reaching out to him. 

Then the sound of a car coming closer made Jisung look to his left. 

He felt the corners of his lips tugging upwards and he took a deep breath.

Minho was screaming something but Jisung didn’t hear what.

The world went silent around him and Jisung couldn’t bring himself to care for the fact that Minho was still around, probably well on his way to pull Jisung off the road.

He had been too young, too gullible when he had come across Minho. Sure, he had certainly loved the older with all his heart and he had learned so much but in the end, it hadn’t done anything to make the voice and that suffocating darkness disappear.

He had fooled himself into a false sense of safety, refusing to believe that everything was still there and ready to attack.

And that’s what he regretted.

If he had never let Minho in it wouldn’t have hurt so much to come face to face with that sorrow and pain again.

Jisung should have never let Minho tear his walls down.

He could see the traffic-light for pedestrians turn to red and that’s when Jisung stopped thinking. 

With one last deep breath and just a single tear tickling down his cheek, he threw himself forward and closed his eyes.

The last thing he heard before everything went black was Minho crying and for a split second, he regretted his choice.

But there was nothing he could do about it now.

After all, he had sealed his fate as soon as he had imprinted that mantra into his brain, wiring to react upon it without thinking.

_Red meant go._

And he was indeed gone.


End file.
